A New Ulster issue 74

Page 106

Here and Now (and After) (Scott Thomas Outlar)

Bury my bones beneath the dirt where trees once towered before civilization took hold.

When the time comes, let my remains bathe naked in the soil; no casket, no box, no boundaries except the caress of earth itself.

Dance and sing atop the plot where I’m laid to rest, and make merry at a funeral filled with laughter.

But until that fateful day arrives, let our eyes flow with tears of joy, let our tongues

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